The Rich Life She Deserved - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

I tossed out the words, pushed back my chair, and walked out. The weight of my classmates' scornful stares burned into my back as I left the private room. But before I could make it far, Vivian came running after me.
We stood facing each other at the hotel entrance. The night air bit through our clothes - especially hers, given how little that flimsy dress protected her from the chill. Against my better judgment, I broke the silence first. "You got what you wanted. Consider this my last reunion. If that's what you were after, mission accomplished."
My eyes traveled to her face - my former face. Just days into this swap, and already pimples were breaking through her caked-on makeup. I frowned slightly. My skin had always been temperamental, prone to breakouts and dark spots, which was why I'd been religious about watching my sugar and oil intake.
Yet here she was, letting everything spiral out of control already.
This time, I kept my mouth shut and moved to hail a cab.
"You think I need your blessing?" She grabbed my arm, voice dripping venom. "Stop playing cool! I know you're seething inside. Your jewelry, your designer collection, your husband... Oh yes, Herbert's quite the catch, isn't he? And now he's mine."
"Keep him." I turned just enough to meet her gaze, my expression carefully neutral. "Just don't come crawling back someday begging to undo this."
"Like I'd ever regret this!" Vivian's laugh rang hollow as she gave me a once-over, her eyes lingering on my fuller figure. With dramatic flair, she released me and took a step back. "You could beg on your knees and I still wouldn't give any of it back!"
Exactly what I'd been waiting to hear.
I allowed myself a small smile as I turned to leave - only to freeze at the sight of Cedric standing near the entrance.
My stomach dropped. From his distance, there was no telling how much he'd overheard.
Even Vivian's bravado faltered at his appearance.
Cedric approached with measured steps. When he reached me, he leaned in to adjust my coat, his fingers gently tucking the fabric closer. "You mentioned a reunion," he said softly. "I was in the neighborhood. Finished already?"
I nodded.
Without hesitation, he took my hand and led me away. Neither of us so much as glanced back at Vivian.
Maybe it was the Romanée-Conti she'd served tonight, but memories came flooding back.
This wasn't my first banquet.
The first had been right after Herbert and I married. My uncle was visiting from overseas, and my parents - eager to impress - had arranged a dinner at Herbert's hotel. They'd even uncorked a bottle of Romanée-Conti.
Herbert hadn't attended. But I'd made the mistake of telling him about it later.
That's when he hit me.
Publicly, Herbert was the picture of refinement. Privately, his temper was volcanic. It's why society families kept their daughters away from him.
So he'd settled for me - middle-class, malleable, meek.
That night, if his mother hadn't intervened, he might have killed me. Instead, she summoned their private physician and confined me to the house for days.
At first, I couldn't understand why wine set him off. Eventually, I realized it was never about the wine.
Too slow with his shoes? A beating. Wrong outfit? A beating. Dared to wear jewelry without permission? A beating.
Herbert didn't want a wife - he wanted a mannequin.
My skin had to be flawless, my figure perfect. Even a mole warranted removal.
I'd once mentioned divorce.
But my family was no match for the Yates empire. Worse, my parents didn't care. "When Herbert tells you to jump, you ask how high," they'd said. "He works hard - let him blow off steam."
"Rich people have quirks. Divorce isn't an option. What about your brother's job with the Yates family?"
"It's not like he'll kill you. Rest a few days, you'll be fine."
So I learned compliance.
I became a ghost in my own life, tiptoeing through each day. My perfect obedience had spared me from violence for nearly a year now.
All I could do was pray Herbert's business trip lasted forever.
That night, nightmares came.
Herbert's contorted face. His fists. The pain with no escape.
In my dream, I finally fought back, shoving with all my strength-
A loud thud woke me. My eyes flew open to see Cedric on the floor.
My stomach dropped as he sat up, rubbing his side. In the dim light, his broad frame seemed to fill the room. When he reached for me, I instinctively curled into myself, voice shaking. "Please... don't hit me."
With Herbert, even accidentally brushing him in sleep meant being dragged from bed and beaten.
"Are you okay?" Cedric's warm hand cradled my face, then something cool pressed to my forehead. "No fever," he murmured. "I'll get you water."
I sat paralyzed as he moved to leave. Without thinking, I grabbed his wrist.
Cedric paused, searching my face. When I didn't speak, he sat back down, fingers tracing my cheekbone with impossible gentleness.
His touch was cool, soothing.
I stared, wondering if this was another dream.
If it was, I never wanted to wake up.